Ladies and Gentlemen
by kgmohror
Summary: Lou is needing something, and Kid is blind to it. Can a handsome gentleman offer her the opportunity to be the lady she wants to be?
1. Chapter 1

Ladies and Gentlemen

_Note: This fanfic, a "between the scenes" story set during season one's "Lady for a Night," was prompted by a comment on Twitter about why Lou seems to act out of character in this episode. Here is my suggestion. The fanvid that goes with this story is "Safe in the Arms of Love." _

Chapter 1

Sighing with satisfaction, Louise gently lowered her petite frame into the tin tub. True, the hot bath she'd ordered at the front desk was in fact barely tepid; by the time the porter had hauled the last of 25 one-gallon pails of hot water up the stairs to her room, the first 10 gallons were stone cold. Still, it was a vast improvement over an icy drenching under the water tank back at the ranch, or being third in line to share a tubful of greasy water in Emma's parlor on Saturday night.

The memory of the grizzled ranch hand rising from his bath in the bunkhouse at Blue Creek Station that afternoon prompted an internal cringe. Though his was hardly the first hairy, naked male torso she'd encountered in her line of work, familiarity didn't make the scene any less appalling. Lou scooped up a handful of suds and blew on them to dispel the unwelcome image. She giggled softly as the foam floated softly over her legs, sprawled over the edges of the narrow tub. The proprietor would surely wonder how an adolescent boy managed to use up a whole cake of Williams shaving soap, but Lou didn't care. She was delighted by the frothy bubbles, a remnant of the childhood she'd had to set aside far too early. Alone in this room, she intended to indulge herself.

Apart from muffled sounds from the bar room downstairs, it was remarkably quiet. Lou let her head drop back and closed her eyes, savoring the silence and her solitude. Much as she loved her new life at Sweetwater Station, sharing close quarters with five teenage boys was a loud, crude and often smelly existence. The only privacy she experienced was while out on a run (when she was too focused on the task at hand to enjoy it), and in the necessary – and sometimes not even then. The boys had chosen to ignore the fact that she was a female almost as soon as they'd learned of it, and Lou endured plenty of awkward mornings when she found it best to keep her gaze trained on the rough-hewn plank floor while her fellow riders stretched and scratched and disrobed without a hint of embarrassment.

Well, _most_ of the boys behaved that way. Smiling slyly to herself, Lou reflected that she wouldn't half-mind seeing Kid out of his skivvies on bath night. But the chestnut-haired, blue-eyed rider guarded his modesty as strenuously as the nuns back at the orphanage in St. Joe. It was just one more example of how wary The Kid was in most respects. He kept his personal history, his opinions and even his real name firmly to himself. Still … at times he could be very open with his feelings, like the wide smile that lit up his face when he was pleased, or the dark scowl he wore when he was fretted. Often, in both cases, the cause of that expression was Lou.

She couldn't figure him out. He had rescued her, protected her, given her her first kiss – and a tantalizing few more since that one. When Emma rang the bell for supper, Kid most often took his place next to or directly opposite Lou at the table, the better to share little jokes and the stories of the day with her. He was first to greet her when she returned from a ride, and if she happened to glance over her shoulder as she spurred Lightning through the ranch gate while taking her turn with the _mochila_, she'd glimpse him leaning over the fence rail, watching her go. She suspected he maintained that watchful post until she had disappeared over the horizon. In so many ways, Kid seemed to demonstrate that he cared about her, and yet …

Painful past experience had taught Lou that men in general weren't to be trusted. As sweet as Kid often was toward her, Lou couldn't be _really_ sure of his true feelings. Didn't he tip his hat to _every_ lady he passed on the boardwalk in Sweetwater? Sometimes she felt he smiled as warmly at the new schoolmarm after Sunday services as he ever did her. Certainly he didn't seem overwhelmed with passion for her. Lou had stayed long enough at Lyle Wick's "gentleman's club" to gain a fair idea of how it was supposed to be between a man and a woman. She'd witnessed plenty of scenes of lovestruck males pleading with one or another of the fancy-dressed gals in Wick's employ for just a few minutes of their time. One of the girls had even bragged about the cowboy who had shot himself in the heart, right on the parlor settee, out of hopeless love for her.

Lou couldn't picture Kid doing anything like _that_. The only real expression of admiration she'd ever heard from him was a bemused, "Damn!" when she modeled the dress she'd bought to go see her siblings in St. Joe. And that had been months ago. Since then, apart from an incautious clinch behind the corral during the dance for Teaspoon's so-called daughter, Kid had mostly lived up to the motto he proclaimed back when Hickok had taken a fancy to Sarah Downs: _"There's nothin' wrong with taking it slow and being careful."_

Slow and careful had never been Lou's style. Seemed like she'd spent her whole life running full-speed, looking for something she didn't exactly have a name for. She knew it had to do with freedom, and independence. She'd made a plan the night she ran away from the orphanage: to make her own way in the world, and eventually be able to take care of Teresa and Jeremiah, too. In order to make that happen, certain sacrifices had to be made.

Her ma used to tell her, _"It's a man's world."_ Well, if that was true, Lou would dress the part as long as it took to get what she wanted. She'd already proven she could ride as well as the boys, do a "man's job." So she'd keep her legs in britches, her hair cropped short and her slight bosom bound up tight. She'd disguise her soft eyes with glasses, pull her hat down low over her forehead and keep her gaze mostly to the ground. She was Lou now, not Louise, because that was the way it had to be.

But she didn't have to like it.

Truth was, Louise had a young woman's heart. She still mourned the loss of her long hair, what her ma used to call her crowning glory. It hadn't escaped her notice that the more hair a gal had piled up on her head or streaming in glistening ringlets over her shoulders, the more admiring looks she got from menfolk. Lou ran a wet hand over her head, feeling the demarcation where her hairline met the back of her neck. She was glad she had decided to buy that pretty hat to go with her new dress. Anyone seeing her in it could assume there was a veritable mountain of hair pinned up under it. Louise didn't know what had possessed her to enter that dressmaker's shop and lay down the bulk of a week's wages on something as frivolous and extravagant as a party dress trimmed in real Parisian lace. She only knew that the sight of it in the window had entranced her. It reminded her a little of the gowns Charlotte and Wicks' other girls wore, except not so colorful and gew-gawed.

Louise glanced to where her new purchases hung on a peg on the door. Beneath them stood a pair of tiny, kid leather boots. The rest of her ensemble – lacy pantaloons, lace-up corset, silky chemise, cotton stockings and garters – were laid out on the bed. She would take her time donning this exquisite costume, one delicate piece at a time. Then she would tuck a full dollar bill into the silk purse, slip out of the hotel room and mince grandly down the boardwalk to the fancy sit-down restaurant up the street, where she would enjoy a fine meal and the admiring glances of her fellow diners. Just this once, Louise decided, she would be a real lady for a night.

Eyes shining with anticipation, she reached for a towel.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Lou picked up the stoneware pitcher and splashed some cold water into the wash basin. Then, cupping her hands, she leaned over the bowl and dashed handfuls of water over her face. She wiped her sleeve over her eyes, then reached for the coarse wash rag made from a tattered square of flour sack, wetted it in the basin, wrung it out, and rubbed the wadded-up fistful of fabric over a bar of harsh pine tar lye soap. The caustic cleanser would sting on the small cuts and scrapes she had inevitably collected riding through the tall sage, but Lou gritted her teeth and began scrubbing the back of her neck vigorously enough to remove a layer of skin along with the trail grit.

"_Go get washed up,"_ Teaspoon had said, like she didn't know what a sight she was: hot, tired and stinking to high heaven from a mixture of sweat and dust. After hours in the saddle, Lou was sore all over, and the linen bindings she used to create a boyish silhouette were chafing the delicate skin beneath. To think that only last night she had felt soft, cool cotton against her skin instead of rough broadcloth. The events of the previous day felt like a dream now that she was back to her real life. She was Lou again, not Louise. As she stared at her pale, weary face in the cloudy mirror over the washstand, she had to wonder which version of herself was the real imposter.

It hadn't helped when Kid barged in as she was hiding her new things, teasing her like she was one of the boys caught with those dirty pictures Tompkins discreetly sold from the back room of the General Store. After insisting she show him what she was trying to conceal, Kid had asked, "Why'd you buy it?" as though the idea of her in girls' clothes was as remarkable as a square egg. He'd called the dress pretty – a word she'd never heard him utter in reference to herself – and Lou was sure he was picturing it on one of the blacksmith's pretty daughters or the buxom mail-order bride that Wyatt Sanders was proud to show off behind the counter of his feed store.

And then that crack about Teaspoon thinking she was strange if he caught her with a dress! As if she needed reminding that she had to be all-boy if she wanted to keep her job. Lou hung the sodden wash cloth on the nail over the basin and stuffed her hands into the front pockets of her dungarees. Glancing out the window, she caught sight of Kid in the corral, currying Katie. His body language told her he was upset, and she felt a stab of remorse. Maybe she had overreacted a mite to his questioning if she was all right. But he had no call to demand to know every little thing she did when she was out of his sight.

Lou felt her checks flush with shame. The truth was, she'd felt mortified when Kid saw her with the dress, afraid that he would discover her secret: pretending to be a real lady in the safe anonymity of Blue Creek. More than that, Lou admitted to herself as she sauntered over to the bunk she shared with Kid, she was feeling … guilt. She hoisted herself up onto her straw-tick mattress and lay on her back, her hands cupped behind her head, staring up at the slanting board roof. In the light of day, it was plain ridiculous to have wasted so much hard-earned money that should have been saved for her future with Teresa and Jeremiah on an outfit she likely would never have cause to wear again. If she'd wanted to spend money on clothes, a new pair of long johns or sturdy work boots would have been a more sensible choice. She thought of her new hat, crushed under her weight beneath the mattress, and grimaced. What a fool she'd been! And yet …

She closed her eyes and relived the previous evening at the restaurant in her mind's eye. How Mr. DeWitt had looked at her, and how it had made her feel. She had never met anyone like him: a real gentleman, with his smart tailored suit and fine manners. He was handsome, too – not in the way Kid was, but in a polished, slightly mysterious way. His features were sharp, almost hawkish, and his dark eyes glittered in the reflected light of the candle on the table.

He had introduced her to champagne, and his special way of drinking it that felt daring and intimate. She had more of it than she'd intended – enough to make her feel light and giddy, but not so much that she could be persuaded to accompany DeWitt to his hotel instead of returning to her own. Lou had been shocked when he'd suggested it, and she wondered what kind of lady he thought she was. He was so insistent. So … _ardent_. And when he'd grabbed her and kissed her right there on the street, Lou had felt shocked, breathless and confused. But something else, too. As DeWitt had pulled her close against him, pressed his hot, demanding lips against hers, Lou had understood, in that moment, that he wanted her in the way that a man wanted a woman. And some small part of her … liked it.

She'd lain awake far into the night trying to make sense of her feelings. But by morning, the champagne had soured in her stomach and her head was pounding. She'd risen too late for breakfast, making it to the Blue Creek Station just in time to accept the _mochila_ and head back to Sweetwater. Then there had been the distressing business of the robbed freight wagon, and Kid's interrogation when she finally made it home. Lou just wanted to put this day, and her whole Blue Creek adventure, behind her.

Just then she heard a light tapping on the door. "Come in," she called wearily, and the door cracked open enough for Kid to stick his head in. He didn't look at her, though, and his voice was abrupt as he informed her, "Emma's got supper on the table." Then he was gone.

Sighing, Louise swung her legs over the side of the bunk and hopped down. Despite not having eaten today, she couldn't muster up much appetite, either for Emma's good cooking or the raucous company of her fellow riders. She pulled on her wire-rimmed glasses and slipped into the slightly slump-shouldered posture she affected to pass as a male.

Time to be one of the boys again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_"I don't owe you nothin'."_

Her own bitter words echoed in Lou's ears as she brushed past Kid and broke into a half-run toward the rattling windmill at the far corner of the property. Reaching the structure, she slumped to a squat against one of its rough, wooden legs. A thrum of power vibrated against her back from the blades high above her, spinning fast in the unceasing prairie wind.

Though that wind felt sharp against her face, it wasn't the cause of the sting behind her eyelids. She blinked rapidly and wiped the back of one small hand over her eyes, dashing away the tears that welled up in them. She dropped her head and stifled the urge to sniffle. It wouldn't do for Teaspoon to come upon one of his "boys" blubbering like a … well, like a girl.

How had everything gone so wrong? Lou toed the hard sod under her boots, remembering one of her ma's favorite sayings: _"Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive."_ Lou knew she had no one to blame for this mess but herself. How dare she pretend to be something she was not – a refined, high-class lady – even for one night. It had seemed so harmless at the time … so exciting to catch the interest of an important gentleman like Tyler DeWitt. But that little, white lie was like a pebble skidding down the face of a high Nebraska bluff, setting off other stones, bigger and bigger ones, until it was a full-blown avalanche scouring every living thing off the whole side of the hill.

Lou had felt the ground start to shift under her feet the moment Kid asked her about that damned dress. The landslide picked up speed when Emma called her out as a girl, and seeing Tyler in Tompkins' store felt like the rumble of falling boulders letting go in a headlong rush. Had Tyler really come all the way from Blue Creek just to see her again? Despite the potential for disaster that made Lou feel like there was a sidewinder coiled up in her belly, she had to admit to a little thrill of pleasure as well.

Then there was the boys' response to her "debut." She had been uneasy when Emma suggested a coming-out party. Even as she descended the stairs in her finery, Louise expected to be greeted with hoots and guffaws. Instead, she was met with expressions of slack-jawed astonishment and appreciation. Her thoughts lingered especially on the memory of Kid's reaction – his broad smile and the admiration shining in his eyes. His first words, though, had been of concern about how Emma's finding out might affect her. So typical of his gentle, protective nature.

Maybe that's why Lou was so taken aback a few minutes ago when Kid had confronted her with fire in his eyes and a steely set to his jaw. She had been genuinely confused at first by his demand to know what had happened in Blue Creek. Then there was a jolt of pure panic when he said Tyler had been asking around Sweetwater about her. Lou felt her cheeks flush, remembering how Kid had challenged her on her desperate lie. The young cowboy didn't have much education, but he was smart. Lou knew he could put two and two together … but sometimes, like now, he was apt to came up with five. He'd obviously come to the conclusion that something had happened between her and Tyler, when nothing had.

Well, _hardly_ anything.

Maybe Tyler had kissed her without asking her permission. But so had Kid, more than once, as a matter of fact. Really, Lou thought with a scowl, how different was Tyler from Kid? Actually, now that she really thought about it, Kid mostly butted into her business and accused her of lyin'. Tyler, on the other hand, had taken her for a fine meal, expressed an interest in her, called her beautiful. Wasn't that how a real gentleman treated a lady? And now he had come all the way from Blue Creek to find her, though they had only spent one evening together.

Louise remembered how her friend Charlotte used to read books she called "novels." One time Lou had paged through one titled _Ruth_. From what she could gather, it was a story about a poor orphan girl meeting a fine gentleman who immediately fell madly in love with her. Lou had thought it seemed very silly at the time, but now she wasn't so sure. Could "love at first sight" really happen? She wasn't in love with Tyler, of course, though she found him attractive and intriguing. But was it possible that he was in love with her? Lou couldn't help a smile as she indulged in momentary air-castle building. What would it be like to be Mrs. Tyler DeWitt, dressed in fine silk, accompanying him to the theatre and dances, being helped out of his stylish carriage and walking down the boardwalk on his arm, the envy of all the other ladies in town?

No. Louise shook her head to dispel her foolish daydream. As flattering as it was that Tyler was looking for her, she understood the danger he posed. If he should find her and discover her secret, all her sacrifices, plans and the hard work she'd invested would blow up like a stick of dynamite. Even if he did care for her, Lou couldn't imagine Tyler taking in her sister and brother along with herself. It wouldn't be fair to ask him, even if he could afford it. In her mind, Louise quietly closed the door to to that fantasy and turned to the problem at hand. Somehow she had to find a way to make Tyler give up on her and go away.

Lou was startled out of her fretful thoughts by the sudden clap of galloping hooves and a shout from the bunkhouse: "Rider comin'!" She looked up to see Cody riding hard toward the station, and Kid in the yard, already mounted on Katie, waiting to grab the _mochila_. Lou had forgotten that Kid was up next. She saw him cast a quick glance in her direction, his jaw set like flint. Then Cody was beside him, the _mochila_ soaring between the two horses, and Kid was off toward Ft. Laramie. He would be gone at least until tomorrow afternoon. That would give Lou the time she needed to deal with Tyler without Kid looking over her shoulder. She watched him ride away until he and Katie were only a smudge of dust on the horizon. Then she got up and headed back to the bunkhouse. She knew what she had to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Lou felt the pistol slip from her hand as Kid's arms tightened around her. The air stank of gunpowder and fresh, hot blood. Lou buried her face in Kid's chest, taking comfort in the odors of leather and trail dust and his own musky scent. She was only vaguely aware of her own sobbing and Kid's voice, soft and soothing, in her ear. She couldn't stop shaking, and when her knees began to buckle, Kid took her weight and supported her.

There were noises in the distance, coming closer; Lou recognized Sam Cain's voice calling her name, and Kid's. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Lou braced her palms on Kid's chest and stepped back. "Here, marshal!" she called, frantically brushing her tears away with her jacket sleeve.

Kid reached into his shirt pocket. "You'd better put these on," he murmured, handing Lou her glasses.

As she hastily adjusted them on her face, Lou cast an involunary glance over her shoulder. DeWitt lay where he'd fallen, face up in the dirt. The hole she'd made in his chest was surprisingly small, just a dark circle rimmed in crimson. His glassy eyes were open, staring into the infinity he'd just been sent to. Lou felt a sudden wave of nausea. Clutching her belly, she stumbled, retching, into the nearby sagebrush just as Marshal Cain rode up.

"What in hell happened here?" Lou heard Sam demand. And then Kid's voice, answering, "I had to kill him, Sam. He drew on me."

"That ain't true!" Lou called. She straightened up and wiped her mouth, then walked weakly to where the two men stood.

"Lou-" Kid began, but she cut him off.

"I appreciate what you're tryin' to do, Kid, but I can't let you." Lou looked up into Sam's grim features. "The truth is, I killed him." She fought to keep a quaver out of her voice. "Shot him down in cold blood." She glanced at Kid, noting the stricken look in his blue eyes, then back to Sam. "I guess you'll have to arrest me." She held up her arms in anticipation of being handcuffed by the lawman. As she did, the sleeves of her jacket hitched up, revealing a band of fiery red welts around each slender wrist – the marks of the rope DeWitt had tied around them. Sam's left eyebrow rose slightly as he took in her injury. He scanned her face, no doubt observing the darkening bruise on her cheek. The cut on her mouth had opened up again; as Lou sucked in her lower lip, she tasted the coppery salt of her own blood.

"Sam, you know Lou wouldn't shoot a man without a damned good reason," Kid said so fiercely that Lou shot him a warning glance, afraid of what he might say next.

The marshal ignored Kid's outburst. Instead, his gaze traveled to the nearby corpse, then back to Lou. "Kid," he said calmly, "I want you to ride back to Emma's and bring back Teaspoon and whichever of the other boys are available. There's four more like that one that'll need to be brought back to town."

"I ain't leavin' Lou alone."

Something like a grim smile tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth. "Well, it seems to me Lou's man enough to face up to the questions that need answerin' on his own. Ain't that right, son?"

"'Course it is," Lou responded gruffly, lowering the pitch of her voice as much as she could. "You go on back to the ranch like Sam says, Kid."

The young cowboy's face darkened at that, and Lou knew he was fixin' to argue the point. She didn't give him the chance. "I can handle myself just fine," she snapped. "Do what the marshal says. I reckon I'll be back at Emma's in time for supper."

"But-"

"You know me well enough to trust I'll treat Lou fairly," Sam interrupted him, and it was clear even to Kid that the lawman didn't want to hear any more about it.

"All right," Kid growled. He stomped over to where the horse he'd commandeered stood, patiently chewing on a clump of sage. Swinging himself into the saddle, he gave Lou a long, hard look. "I hope you'll tell Sam the _whole_ truth," he said. At her nod of dismissal, he wheeled the horse around and galloped off.

Lou felt a lump rising in her throat as she watched him ride away. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to be in his arms again, safe and protected. But this was her moment of reckoning, not his.

"Okay, let's head on back to town and you can tell me what all this is about," Sam said, reaching for the bridle of his own mount.

"Ain't you gonna handcuff me?"

"Are you plannin' to try to run off?" Sam said, hoisting himself astride the horse.

"No."

"Then get on that horse." He gestured at the animal Lou had ridden in pursuit of DeWitt. "Its owner won't be needing it anymore."

The ride back to Sweetwater felt like the longest of Lou's life. She kept her eyes averted from the scene of carnage as they passed through the spot where DeWitt's gang lay scattered like so much dry kindling on the hard ground. Lou had seen a lot of death in her short life – much of it by violence – but she hoped she'd never get used to the spectacle of sightless eyes staring up from bloodied bodies, be they bad men or not.

Since joining the Express, Lou had been in her fair share of fire fights: desperate, to-the-death melees that had been impossible to avoid. However, even she had to admit she wasn't a very good shot. Her pistol was large and heavy for her small hand, the explosive kick-back from a shot painful and jarring. All those times she'd participated in exchanges of gunfire to save her own life and the lives of her friends, Lou was never sure if, amid all the smoke and noise and confusion of those terrifying encounters, any men had actually been sent to their graves by a bullet with her name on it.

But now she had killed an unarmed man. A bad man, certainly, but still a living human being she had cut down at close range and with purposeful intent.

Worst of all, it hadn't been necessary.

True, she had shot in self-defense; Lou had no doubt that Tyler would have killed her if she'd allowed him close enough to grab for the gun. It was truly his life or hers at that moment. But what roiled Lou's innards as she followed along behind Sam was that it hadn't had to come to that. She had created the crisis herself by pursuing Tyler when he tried to escape. She'd been out of his clutches, after all. She might have simply gotten out of the way of the gunfire and waited until it was all over to tell the marshal about DeWitt's escape and the direction he'd gone. Sam was an expert tracker and DeWitt wouldn't have gotten far. He'd have been swiftly captured and brought to justice in a court of law. Instead, Lou had meted out justice herself.

What tormented her most, on that long ride back to town, was the realization that she had pursued Tyler, had killed him, for revenge. And not for the beating he'd given her – God knows she'd felt the back of a man's hand before this – but because of what he had _taken_ from her.

DeWitt had destroyed her fantasy of another kind of life. Lou understood very well what real life was; for as long as she could remember, it was mostly hard and cold and hungry and lonely. Yet every day in Sweetwater, in St. Joe, or in any of the other towns and settlements she passed through on her runs, Lou saw a different kind of life that _other_ folks had. She saw ladies being helped down from wagons by their husbands, and girls her age in pretty dresses and fine, feathered hats enjoying the attentions of handsome young men. She saw families: men who treated their spouses with respect and their children with affection. Was it so wrong of Lou to have dreamed such a life might be possible some day for herself?

Yes, and Tyler DeWitt had shown her that in the cruelest possible way. Emma had warned her that Tyler might be a taking sort of man, and so he had proved. Her own father had been that kind, and so was Wicks, even more brutally. She had encountered so many more hard men, too, before and since she had joined the Riders. Seemed like she oughta be able to spot them by now.

Or maybe she could.

Lou flashed back to the fatal moment with Tyler. What had he said that had caused her finger to tighten on the trigger?

_"You can't shoot me, Louise. You like me too much."_

That was the flashpoint: him naming the thing that haunted her most. _Did_ she like him – like _it_ – that much? Her earliest memory was of her father beating her ma … and yet, Jeremiah and Teresa came along before her mother had finally left that vicious man, and then only because Boggs' increasing illegal activity threatened her children. Lou also remembered Polly, one of Wick's girls, who always seemed to attract what Charlotte called the "hard-handed" men. But Polly would stroll down the stairs after, covered in bruises and smiling like the cat that got the cream.

Was that what Lou was like? Hungering to be mistreated because she believed she deserved no better? Could it be that she was as sick in her own way as she declared DeWitt to be? Maybe she wasn't a real lady at all, and taking Tyler's life showed she really wasn't any better than he was.

In her mind's eye, Lou recalled the flash of the pistol, the astonished look on DeWitt's face as he felt her lead plumb his internal organs. A sob hitched in her throat. She had done this thing, and now she would have to pay.

Ahead of her, Sam pulled back lightly on the reins and waited for Lou to come up beside him. They were stopped at the edge of town.

"Don't say anything to anybody," the marshal cautioned. "We're just going to ride in, nice and easy, back to my office. Then we're going to get this sorted out."

Fearful, yet accepting the fate she knew was before her, Lou nodded.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Hey, marshal. Where you been?" Cain's deputy asked cheerfully when Sam and Lou entered the office. "Oh, hey there, Lou."

Lou kept her chin down as she answered his greeting with a curt nod. She desperately wished she had her hat with her; she always felt safer under the brim of that element of her disguise.

"Barnett," Cain said brusquely, "There's been some trouble about six miles south of town, near Corwin's Bluff. Lou and Kid and I caught up with the gang that's been robbing the freight wagons."

"Holy sh-" Barnett began, but Sam cut him off.

"They're all dead. I sent Kid back to the Express station to get Teaspoon and the boys and go back there. I 'spect you can meet up with them if you take the Windy Creek trail."

"But marshal-"

"I need you there in your official capacity, Barnett. To supervise the clean-up."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lou saw the deputy puff up with self-importance.

"I'll take care of it for ya, marshal," Barnett said, adjusting his gun belt and putting on his hat.

Sam waited until the deputy rode off before closing and locking the door and pulling down the shade. Anyone who stopped by would assume there was no one inside.

"Have a seat over there, Lou," he said, nodding to the straight-backed chair opposite his desk. Lou's nerves were as taut as a piano wire, and she barely let Sam settle in his own leather chair before she blurted, "I did it, marshal. I killed DeWitt, and I know I've gotta hang for it."

Sam sighed heavily. "Calm down, Lou. Ain't nobody talkin' about hangin' anybody. I'm gonna ask you some questions, and I want you to tell me the truth."

"All right."

"First of all, what were you doing with DeWitt and his gang?"

"I wasn't with them, marshal. DeWitt caught me searching his hotel room. He knocked me out and took me with him to meet up with his boys." As she spoke, Lou unconsciously rubbed one knuckle over the tender lump on her cheekbone where DeWitt had struck her. She saw Sam's eyes follow her movement and quickly dropped her hand and lowered her face.

"This morning when I mentioned that DeWitt said he didn't know the freight schedule, you knew that wasn't true, didn't you?" Sam asked.

Lou nodded.

"How?"

She kept her gaze trained on the back of her hands on her lap. "I-I met DeWitt a few days ago in Blue Creek. We … struck up an acquaintance, and he told me he had the schedules."

"Now why would an insurance agent share that kind of information with a boy he met in passing?"

Lou shrugged. "Wanted to impress me, I guess."

"Hm." Sam was silent a minute. Then he said, "I was suspicious of DeWitt myself, so I did some checking up on him. Seems he made quite a reputation for himself in the short time he was in Blue Creek."

"Is that so?" Lou tried to sound uninterested.

"Yep. He was a regular at a certain gentleman's club there, and-"

"Shouldn't call 'em that," Lou snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"Gentlemen's clubs. Ain't no real gentleman would set foot in a place like that."

"Well, I'm inclined to agree," Sam drawled, "but apparently this DeWitt was even worse than most of their clientele. Treated one of the girls there pretty rough." Lou glanced up to see Sam eyeing her carefully. "Hurt her bad."

Lou felt her blood run cold, but only said, "That's a terrible shame. But I wouldn't know anything about it. I barely knew DeWitt."

"I'm glad of that. But I wonder why you didn't mention you met him when I was talking about him this morning, 'specially if you suspected he was involved in these robberies."

Lou wished Sam would just shut up and arrest her already. Lying didn't come as natural to her as it did to some. "I didn't know for sure," she said defensively. "Didn't want to accuse a man without proof."

"So that's why you broke into his hotel room? To look for proof?"

"Yes, marshal."

"That was a mighty foolish thing to do, wasn't it?" Sam's voice had a warning edge to it.

"Lookin' back on it now, I guess it was," was all Lou answered.

"I've never known you to be a fool, Lou. So why'd you do something so damned dangerous?"

"He might have been stealing from Russell, Majors and Waddell. I owe the company a lot."

Sam gave a little snort. "Well, now, that's mighty loyal of you."

Lou didn't respond.

Sam's broad hand hit the desktop hard, startling Lou into looking up at him. "Damn it, Lou! You might have been killed, don't you know that? If it weren't for Kid-"

"What about Kid?" Lou demanded.

"He went lookin' for you at the hotel. When he saw there's been a struggle in DeWitt's room, he came to me."

Lou suddenly recalled Kid handing her her glasses. It hadn't occurred to her to wonder how he'd come by them until now. She refocused her attention on the marshal, who was still speaking.

"-followed the tracks of DeWitt's wagon until we came upon you all in that clearing," he was saying. "I hoped to take them in peacefully, but as you know, all hell broke loose. Kid yelled something about DeWitt having you and took off after you both."

"He shouldn't have done that!" Lou exclaimed. "He might've got killed!"

"That's true, but I imagine he was more concerned about the same thing happening to you." Sam gave Lou another penetrating stare, and she wondered whether he might have an inkling that she wasn't who she pretended to be. She quickly turned her face away from his probing eyes.

"Kid's a good friend," she murmured.

"Yes he is," the marshal commented. "Though maybe a mite rash. Like someone else I know." Then the lawman turned his questioning another way. "Now, s'pose you tell me how DeWitt ended up dead?"

"When all the shootin' started, Tyler let go of me and took off," Lou began.

"Tyler?" Sam interjected.

Lou felt a hot flash of panic roll over her. "Yes. I mean Mr. DeWitt. His first name was Tyler."

"I know that. But I'm surprised you do."

"He-he told me that was his name when I met him in Blue Creek."

"You certainly made an impression on the man to get on such familiar terms that quick," Cain noted dryly. "But go on. What happened after DeWitt rode off?"

"I saw another horse nearby, so I took it and rode after him." Anticipating his next question, she added hurriedly, "I know that was stupid. I guess I just wasn't thinkin' clearly. I didn't want him to get away."

"Not thinking clearly is the understatement of the century. But go on."

"I was chasing him, and he was shooting back at me. But I got alongside and a little above him and jumped onto his horse. We both fell hard, and he dropped his gun. I got to it first." Suddenly Lou was back in that desolate gully, facing DeWitt. She fell silent.

"Lou?"

Her eyes snapped up to meet the marshal's.

"What happened then, Lou?" Sam asked quietly.

Lou closed her eyes, remembering. "I had the gun on him, and I told him to stay where he was. But he started toward me. I warned him that I was going to shoot if he came any closer. He didn't believe me, and-and-" She felt hot tears squeeze out from under her eyelids and roll down her cheeks. "I pulled the trigger."

There was silence from Sam for a moment. Then: "And did Kid see what happened?"

She shook her head. "I imagine he heard the shot. But when he rode up, DeWitt was already … gone."

"All right. Just one more thing. When Kid and I came upon the DeWitt gang, before the gunfight started, there was already a dead man on the ground. How did that come about?"

"He was one of DeWitt's men. He told DeWitt the law was getting close and he didn't want to go through with the robbery. Said $25,000 wasn't worth gettin' killed over." Lou paused. "DeWitt said that it was, and he shot the man dead where he stood. I guess that was his idea of a joke."

"I can't say I appreciate Mr. DeWitt's brand of humor," Same commented.

"Me neither."

Sam abruptly got to his feet. "I appreciate your honesty, Lou. I believe I've heard all I need to." As the marshal moved to unlock the office door, Lou took the opportunity to wipe her damp cheeks with her sleeve.

"Will I have to stay here until the trial?" she asked.

Cain looked back at her. "Ain't gonna be no trial, Lou. This here is about the clearest case of self-defense I've ever seen."

Lou's heart skipped a beat. "You mean I ain't in trouble?"

"Not for shooting DeWitt," Sam said. Then his expression turned grave. "But there's something I want you to do some hard thinking about." He walked back to Lou, looking down into her pale face. "You and Kid and the rest of the boys, you aren't Pinkerton men, and you aren't lawmen. You got no business taking the law into your own hands, especially you bein' a –" He cleared his throat. "With you bein' just a boy. You put yourself in danger, and you put others in danger. So unless I ask for your help, you stay out of my business, do you hear?"

Lou nodded. "I will, marshal." She hesitated, then added, "But ain't there some kind of punishment I should get? I took a man's life."

Sam looked back at her. "You'll remember this day the rest of your life, Lou. I suspect that will be punishment enough." She saw a haunted look come into his eyes, and it occurred to Lou that Sam might have his own Tyler DeWitt living in his memory.

There was a sudden commotion outside. Sam opened the door and Lou saw Teaspoon bringing DeWitt's wagon to a halt in front of the marshal's office. Barnett sat beside the former Texas Ranger. The bed of the wagon was mounded with something covered with blankets. Lou turned away from the sight. Kid, Hickok and Ike were close behind on their horses. Kid jumped down from Katie and hurried up the steps to the office door, his face taut with worry.

"Lou?" he asked, searching her expression for an answer to his fears.

"It's all right, Kid," she hastened to reassure him. "Sam says there won't be any charges." Lou watched Kid almost sag with relief and felt a rush or warmth for him. Now was not the time, but soon she would find a quiet moment to thank him, to make this kind, gentle young man understand how much she owed him. As Teaspoon and the others followed Kid up the steps, she caught Kid's eye again and gave him a quick, shy smile.

Sam was right. She would always remember this day: the bad, and the good. The sisters at the orphanage used to say that every person was the sum total of their experiences. Lou McCloud was determined that what she took from this experience would be a positive thing, helping make her into the woman – the lady - she vowed to become.


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

Sighing with contentment, Lou let her head drop into the crook of Kid's neck. She stood, her back snugged up against his broad chest and his strong arms draped loosely around her slim form, gazing out at the orange sun hanging low on the horizon. Off in the distance, a whitetail doe calmly fed on the tall grass while a massive stag, no doubt her mate, stood protectively nearby. The sight made Lou smile. Had she ever felt more contented … more safe?

She had apologized to Kid, and in his typical humble, great-hearted way, he had tried to take on the blame himself.

_"You needed something and I was blind to it. It won't happen again, I promise."_

She believed him. Because Kid was a true gentleman. A giver, not a taker. She trusted that he would always treat her like a lady, whether she was wearing petticoats or britches. He would never put his own needs ahead of hers, or take what wasn't given freely.

Lou had put what happened with DeWitt behind her, but she would never forget. There were other parts of her past she hadn't yet come to terms with, things she didn't dare tell The Kid, even now. Perhaps someday she would share all her secrets with him, and he with her. For now, it was enough to close her eyes and bask in the warmth of his arms.

A distant clanging split the air, the sound of Emma ringing the dinner bell. It was followed by a chorus of hoots and hollers as the rest of the boys converged on the bunkhouse from wherever they were on the ranch. Opening her eyes again, Lou saw a dark form far out on the prairie – Teaspoon on his way back from town. Regretfully, she disengaged from Kid's embrace and turned to look up at him.

"Looks like it's time to get back to the real world," she noted ruefully.

He shrugged. "Guess so." As they began to walk, side by side, toward the bunkhouse, Kid suddenly gave her a little goose and broke into a trot. "Better get a move on, Lou!" he called over his shoulder. "Don't want Cody to hog all the biscuits!"

Lou watched his tall form receding from her and smiled. Kid wouldn't go hungry for biscuits tonight - because she would give him hers, and anything else he ever wanted or needed from her. That's the way it was when ladies and gentlemen were in love, after all.

She raised a hand in greeting toward Teaspoon as he rode into the yard, then whooped in pure joy as she ran to join her family for supper.


End file.
